Chapter 4 - WHY JULIAN HAD MY DONOR NUMBER
Julian agreed to meet at Claire’s office.
His attorney came with him.
So did Garrison, but only because I asked.
Not as counsel.
As witness.
Claire’s conference table made everyone look smaller.
Julian avoided my eyes.
Chloe did not come.
Good.
I placed the Queen City statement in front of him.
“Why does your storage account have my donor number?”
His attorney spoke first.
“Julian is not going to speculate about clinic coding.”
I looked at Julian.
“You knew enough to bring my medical file to a banquet.”
“I brought proof because you keep letting people think those kids are mine.”
“I have never said they are.”
“You didn’t correct Garrison.”
I stared.
“Correct him about what?”
Julian glanced toward Garrison.
Garrison said nothing.
Julian looked back at me.
“Everybody knows he’s always hovering around you.”
I almost laughed.
“This is about jealousy?”
“No.”
“Then answer the question.”
His attorney leaned toward him.
Julian ignored her.
“The number is from an old storage transfer.”
“What was stored?”
“My specimen.”
“Your tests showed no sperm.”
He looked down.
“One test did.”
“Two tests did.”
“They weren’t the whole story.”
“What whole story?”
“I had undergone treatment.”
“For what?”
He rubbed his jaw.
“Testicular cancer.”
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Before we met.”
I thought through twelve years of knowing him.
No scar I had noticed.
No story.
No hospital.
Nothing.
“You never told me.”
“I was twenty-two.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I didn’t want it defining me.”
I looked at the report again.
“You banked sperm before treatment.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“How much?”
“Several samples.”
“And when we were trying to get pregnant?”
“I still had some stored.”
I felt physically cold.
“You let me believe infertility was my fault while you had banked sperm.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“It looks incredibly simple.”
“We had options.”
“You hid one.”
His eyes hardened.
“I didn’t know if I wanted children anymore.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“When we first got married, yes.”
“And later?”
“I changed.”
I stared at him.
“All those appointments.”
“I know.”
“All those injections I researched.”
“I know.”
“All those nights you watched me cry because I thought my body had failed us.”
His mouth tightened.
“I was a coward.”
At least one true sentence.
Claire redirected.
“Why was Mr. Brooks’s stored material assigned Emma’s donor reference number?”
Julian’s attorney answered.
“We don’t know that it was.”
I pushed the statement forward.
“Then explain the number.”
Julian finally looked at me.
“Mercer arranged a transfer.”
“To Queen City?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said anonymous storage would protect privacy.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know that now.”
“When?”
“About three years ago.”
“That was while we were married.”
“Yes.”
“Did you authorize your material to be used by someone else?”
“No.”
His answer was immediate.
I believed it.
That scared me.
“Did you know I chose donor 4187?”
His face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
“When did you know?”
Silence.
“Julian.”
“After your first insemination.”
My hands went still.
“You knew before I got pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He looked toward his lawyer.
She whispered, “Don’t.”
He answered anyway.
“Chloe worked at Queen City.”
I stared.
“What?”
“She was a patient coordinator.”
The affair had not begun where I thought.
Chloe had told me they met at a corporate charity event.
Julian had repeated it during mediation.
Another lie.
“When did you meet her?”
“While you were still being treated.”
“How long before the divorce?”
His face closed.
“Seven months.”
I almost laughed.
Of course.
“What did Chloe tell you about donor 4187?”
Julian said nothing.
I leaned closer.
“What did she tell you?”
Finally:
“That Mercer’s transferred specimen had been entered into the anonymous donor inventory under that number.”
I couldn’t hear the room for a second.
“Your sperm.”
Julian swallowed.
“Yes.”
“And you knew the clinic offered that number to patients.”
“I didn’t know they would offer it to you.”
“But when you learned I picked it?”
“I panicked.”
“Did you stop the procedure?”
“No.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Did Chloe?”
“No.”
My stomach shifted.
One twin pressed high beneath my ribs.
I held the edge of the table.
Then Garrison spoke.
“Why bring the envelope now?”
Julian looked at him.
“Because Chloe found out Emma’s pregnancy dates match the last vials.”
I stared.
“Last vials?”
Julian looked at me.
“There were two.”
My breath caught.
Two specimens.
Twins.
It meant nothing scientifically by itself.
But emotionally, the number struck like a hammer.
Then Claire asked the question none of us had yet asked.
“If Julian knew this before Emma became pregnant, why did he publicly insist the babies could not be his?”
May you like
Julian looked toward the window.
And his attorney closed her eyes.
